


Waxing and Waning, Accents and Maiming

by AngelfishInAmerica



Category: Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)
Genre: F/M, I mean he's always a disaster but I'm talking about the face thing, Might throw in Luigi/OC who knows, Other, Pre-disaster Pavi, Reader is not a gentern
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-11 03:30:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16467833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelfishInAmerica/pseuds/AngelfishInAmerica
Summary: He's got a nice face, a nice ass, and the most obnoxious Italian accent you've ever heard.You're hooked.





	Waxing and Waning, Accents and Maiming

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to the point in my life where I inevitably return to Repo after insisting I didn't care about it for the past 9 years since I became aware it existed. I love Pavi and started writing this and I wasn't gonna do anything with it but I met Nivek this past weekend and he was so sweet and I felt compelled to share with the world.
> 
> As with my Loki fic this is more of a second-person OC and less of a generic reader thing. And also very much a self-insert self-gratification situation but obviously I would like anyone to be able to read and relate to it. Reader character will have a name and be femme, bi, probably nonbinary. We'll see what I'm feeling.
> 
> Also I might delete this but I figured maybe SOMEONE would appreciate it. Please comment if you like it so I know this isn't for nothing lol!
> 
> Title tentative.

It is with an overwhelming sense of dread that you enter GeneCo for your first surgery. The world has been crashing around you with more and more deaths by way of organ failures; some kind of epidemic. You didn't take it seriously at first. You've always been pretty healthy, so it seemed a distant threat. You’re no creature of perfection; you have various minor issues passed down from your parents, but you aren't addled with pain in every step. So, like a fool, you didn’t pay attention as people began dropping like flies. 

By the time it got to you, whatever it was, GeneCo was firmly securing itself as a leader in both critical and cosmetic surgeries of any kind. What began with necessity was creeping more and more into luxury. The world around you was crumbling into even more of a capitalist wasteland, and genetic modification was quickly becoming the new norm.

But this is no luxury. Not for you. You don't want surgery, but if you spend another day coughing up blood… well, then you might not spend another day. Thankfully, you were lucky to have a father had an in with this company. This connection allowed you to get into their exclusive trials. Weird Italian family politics.

It wasn’t long before you and a handful of other “lucky” participants were brought to the front door of an enormous building illuminated only by the massive “GeneCo” sign glowing overhead. You all take a few  steps through the doorway being held open for you by two guards and are immediately greeted by the Largo family that run this corporation. There are four of them; the father, Rotti, and his three children. You can't remember their names, but you do know they look every bit as spoiled as you would've expected. A daughter and two sons, one of whom manages to catch your interest.  

You try not to stare too much, but it's not  _ your _ fault this guy is handsome, with his chin-length black hair and tight-fitting suit. That was a choice. You accidentally make eye contact a few times and quickly redirect your gaze to the father each time. His expression seems almost flirtatious the moments that he catches you, but you're sure you're imagining things. He's rich and well dressed, so he's either socially out of your league or, uh, not into you as a person with breasts.

Oh, how wrong you could be.

It turned out that the one you kept glancing  at was Pavi. The rest of the opening “ceremony” was admittedly a blur, and it wasn’t long before you and all of your fellow soon-to-be patients were whisked into surgery. When you finally came to, you had no idea how much time had passed, or how long the procedure took. You woke up with a lingering numbness, followed by a soreness, followed by Pavi leaning over you.

“Hello!”

“Holy shit!” You nearly scream. You try to move, but your senses were still returning to you and you felt like your body was lagging. Panicked, you glance around; no one else is in the room. Should he even be here? Probably not. Pavi grins, entirely too close. What is he??  “C… Can I help you?” You finally ask.

“Oh, you already have,” he says, a hand on your cheek as the most grating, flamboyant, inauthentically authentic Italian accent pours out of his mouth--that slight roll on the r’s, the slight upwards inflection at the end of each word. He sounds like that one video game your parents showed you years ago. He sounds like the family members you’ve been told to avoid. What a fucking character.

“Excuse me?” The implication of his words finally dawns on you.

“By being so beautiful!” he exclaims. This does not explain anything; in fact, you are more alarmed.

“Thank you? Please stop touching me,” you say, finally feeling capable of moving around and gently moving his hand away from your face. He does not slap you for this, but looks like he’s ready to.

“You do not want the Pavi?” he asks as you sit up. His voice, between the shrillness and his apparent hurt, sounds like broken glass personified. You look around slowly, but with urgency, hoping for a nurse or  _ someone _ to save you from this situation.

“Uh.” You’re waiting for some kind of cue that will explain what’s happening. He does not give you one. That’s... fine. “No?”

“Surely you do not-a mean that!” He says, tossing his head back and placing his hands against his chest theatrically. “You are-a breaking my heart!”

You stare at him, blinking. You have no idea how to respond to that. What is happening? How much of that blue glowy drug did they inject you with? Were you high? 

A few moments of silence pass and his expression visibly changes through a multitude of emotions that you barely have time to understand or process, but they seem to end in outrage.  Just as he’s about to speak, Rotti enters the room with your father and the other Largo children Without another word, Pavi rises to his full stature, chest puffed out in the most dramatic display of offense, before turning on his heel and storming out. For a moment it looked as if Rotti was going to chastise him, but instead he rolled his eyes and took the opportunity to commend you on the success of your surgery and ask how you were feeling. It felt like a sales-pitch rather than genuine concern, but you humored him with brief, positive answers, which was obviously exactly what he wanted to hear. 

You had bigger things to worry about. Like, what the hell just happened? Why was Pavi there? Was he propositioning you? What just… You feel as if you’ve invoked the wrath of an incredibly metrosexual god. 

...Did you?


End file.
